


Call my Bluff

by epne



Category: Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Crack, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Lying & Jealousy, but in a fun way?, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-10-20 08:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epne/pseuds/epne
Summary: Rey is new to Boone County and wants to watch The Bachelor. Clyde is old to Boone County and has a TV in his bar.Okay, so maybe Rey wasn’t completely forthcoming before, maybe Rey also wants Clyde. It’s alright though because thanks to Jimmy and Mellie she knows exactly what to do to get him: invent a fake boyfriend or two. Obviously.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a three hit combo of finally having watched Logan Lucky X [Pierre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtBu3xszHF4&frags=pl%2Cwn) by Ryn Weaver X season 23 of The Bachelor.

“Please, Clyde.”

“No.”

“ _Please_.” She draws out the middle of the word.

“Now, do you reckon that any other patrons of this bar would fancy watching that trash?” Clyde polishes circles into the hardwood of the already clean bar as to avoid making eye contact. 

“...yes.” 

“No.” 

“Mellie would.” Rey huffs, crossing her arms. 

“You ain’t even old enough to be in here. Let alone to be takin’ charge a my TV.”

“You know I wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn’t serious.”

“It _ain’t_ serious.”

“It is!” Rey smacks her hand onto the bar top. “I can only afford Netflix right now and I’ve never missed a season of The Bachelor. _That’s_ serious.”

“Don’t sound like it to me.”

“I hate you, Clyde Logan.” 

Though Clyde knows her words are untrue they jarr him enough to finally meet her gaze. “No, you don’t.” He sets his jaw into a hard line.

“No, I don’t.” 

Clyde can breathe again. 

-

“You have it on.” Rey’s smile is blinding as she settles herself down onto one of the wooden bar stools.

Clyde just grunts noncommittally as he pops the cap off of a Newcastle for her.

“I can’t believe you actually did it for me.” She pretends to swoon. 

“I reckon you can. Seeing as you showed up.”

“Pfft,” Rey dismisses him, taking a swig from of the glass bottle. “What are you talking about? I’m here _every_ Monday night.” 

“You ain't.” Clyde says matter of factly before he gets shushed as she focuses on her program. 

If anyone asked him about it Clyde would maintain that he only has the reality show on because Duck Tape is next to dead on Monday nights. Really though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Clyde would do pretty much anything for Rey. 

She had started off as a mystery. Pretty young thing moving to Boone County, it was practically unheard of. Usually people wanted out, not in. She had been the talk of the town for weeks and Clyde had been privy to all of it thanks to his post behind the bar.

It had annoyed him at first, he hadn't understood what all of the talk was about, all he ever seemed to hear was ‘Rey this’ and ‘Rey that’. Even his own family wasn’t immune. 

Mellie gushed excitedly about her after Rey had visited her salon for a haircut, rambling on and on about her fancy accent and pretty face. Jimmy had whistled lowly as he recounted how he had run into her and Old Ben at the Piggly Wiggly. And Clyde, well Clyde just hadn't understood all of the fanfare. 

Sure, he’d thought, it was exciting. Old Ben’s long lost granddaughter from across the pond moved home, but it certainly wasn’t exciting enough for people to be going on and on about her like they did. 

The first time he met her he'd understood.

Old Ben had been sitting at the bar espousing all of his worldly wisdom to anyone who got close enough to listen when she had burst through the door. 

“Now, you know you’re not supposed to be drinking, old man.” Rey had laughed as she slid onto a barstool next to Old Ben.

“Ain’t.” Old Ben said curling his hand protectively around his whisky. 

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes until they settled on Clyde. “Oh, hi.”

“Evenin’.” Clyde suddenly felt awkward standing behind the bar, like he was taking up too much space in the room.

“M’names Rey.” She offered him her hand to shake as she assessed him quickly. He felt her eyes appraise the contours of his body in a matter of seconds before they found his again, gaze not lingering on his prosthetic like most women's did, like most _people's_ did really. 

“I know, I mean, I’m Clyde.” He shook her hand and tried not to focus on how soft her skin was cradled in his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Clyde.” She somehow managed to smile with her whole face.

“I don’t think it is. He’s a Logan.” Old Ben had interjected, “cursed family I was tellin’ ya about.”

Clyde couldn’t argue that point.

Rey blew air loudly out of her delicately pink lips. “Curse shmurse, you got a Newcastle back there for me?” She nodded in the direction of the bar.

“Commin’ right up miss.” 

“Just Rey.” 

“Rey,” he repeated her name. He liked the way it felt rolling around inside his mouth as he slid her her beer.

“To making our own luck.” She had toasted with a wink.

Clyde just nodded, dumbstruck.

“I’m shooting a game of pool and then we’re going.” Rey pointed a finger sternly at Old Ben. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Old Ben had waved her away. “Just ‘cause I’m old don’t mean I don’t got rights, you know.”

“You’ve got the right to follow your doctor’s orders about not drinking on your new medication is what you've got. You should be grateful I don’t get Clyde, here, to ban you from this bar right now.”

“If he’s bannin’ anyone it should be you.” Old Ben shot back. “She’s only twenty you know,” he said to Clyde conspiratorially. “It wouldn’t be _wrong_ to just kick her out…”

“You gonna kick me out Clyde?” Rey asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clyde didn’t think he could even if he wanted to. He hadn’t know her long, but he was pretty confident that there was a zero percent chance that she’d stay out even if he did. “As long as you don’t cause me no trouble you can stay.”

“Good man.” She shifted her gaze back to Old Ben, “now, you have exactly one pool game’s time and then we’re out of here.”

Clyde couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she’d marched over to the pool table and started up a game with Earl. Clad in tight jeans that clung to her in just the right way and a shirt that rode up her tanned back as she leaned over the green felt of the table, he was transfixed. Her eyes shone with pride as she sunk ball after ball, face flushed with excitement. He tried not to stare at the way she wrapped her lips around the rim of her bottle or the way her neck bobbed as she swallowed, but he was only a man. Jumping excitedly up and down when she won the game, crowing at Earl as if she’d know him for years, she commanded all of Clyde's attention. 

Old Ben glanced back at her before turning to Clyde. “She sure is something, ain’t she?”

“Yeah,” Clyde agreed, she was.

After he’d first met her Rey had quickly become a near constant in his life. She came to Duck Tape regularly with Old Ben, ostensibly to monitor his alcohol consumption, but more likely just to kick everyone’s ass at pool and darts. So it doesn't take long for Clyde to grow fond of her. She knows when he’s joking, something only Mellie and Jimmy can do with any level of accuracy, and she’s quick to laugh with him, and she doesn’t let anything slide, and she’s stubborn, and she listens to him, and a million other things. So, yes, Clyde is fond of her. Nothing more, nothing less.

That’s how he ends up discussing the goings on of The Bachelor with her instead of righting the glasses on the dishrack that need tending to. 

“Who do you think is strong so far?” Rey asks him during a commercial break.

Clyde doesn’t know what to say, he’s been more focused her than the show. “Uh, that sloth girl?” He tries. She’s the only contestant that Clyde can remember.

Rey facepalms. “You’re hopeless.”

“Well, who do you reckon is strong then?”

“Maybe Cassie.” Rey chews her bottom lip as she taps her pen against the notepad in front of her. Because she’s taking honest to God notes on this stupid show. Clyde tries not to find it endearing. “She got the romantic music _and_ Colton kept the butterfly she gave him.” 

“Which one’s Cassie?” 

Rey shakes her head. “Blonde, speech pathologist, California, come on Clyde. Keep up.”

Clyde raises his hands in surrender as Rey laughs.

It’s when she goes back to scribbling something on her notepad that Clyde knows. Whether he likes it or not he’s certain that The Bachelor will be occupying his bar’s TV on Monday nights for the foreseeable. 

If it means getting to spend this much time alone with Rey every week he’ll play the damn infomercial channel for her if he has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s midterm szn so obviously I’m writing again…


	2. Chapter 2

Rey comes to Duck Tape faithfully every week. She arrives early and scribbles notes furiously as she watches the show with rapt attention, adjusting and re-adjusting her final four pick all while muttering things that Clyde tries to understand under her breath. 

_“Hannah not Alabama is also from Alabama, huh.” “Oh that’s it! There’s no way Demi makes it past week six, tattling on another contestant is_ the _kiss of death.” “Damn I really thought Kirpa was out this week.”_

Despite himself, Clyde finds that he actually likes the show. He doesn’t ‘get it’ per se, in fact he’s not entirely sure why anyone would want to date the bachelor at all, let alone multiple women, but in a weird way it’s compelling. It’s also nice to see Rey’s face light up when he manages to spit out an insight that she had missed, Clyde likes that too. 

He thinks it’s only fair then that he pay her a visit at her work once in a while too. Just so that they’re even.

Settling himself into his usual booth at Maz and Old Ben’s diner, The Cantina, it doesn’t take long for Rey to materialize in front of him. A half-apron tied tightly around her slender waist.

“How you doing, honey?” 

Clyde’s breath catches in his throat at the pet name and he frowns. “Honey?”

“I’m trying something.” Rey sighs as she cocks a hand on her hip. “You know, _southern hospitality_.” She waves her hands around, “Maz says mine could use some improvement. Or, actually, she said that mine didn’t exist at all.” 

“She’s right.” 

“Watch it.” Rey smacks him lightly on the shoulder with her writing pad. “Or I’ll tell Poe specifically not to burn your bacon.” 

“A waitress with southern hospitality wouldn’t hit one of her paying customers _or_ threaten them.”

Rey rolls her eyes before straightening. “Fine, what can I get you, darling?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet and and curls sarcastically up around the last word.

“Just the usual, _ma’am_.” 

“Coming right up, sir!” Her fake smile is so big that Clyde imagines it must hurt her cheeks.

He watches her ponytail bounce as she walks away and appreciates, not for the first time, the swing of the little blue dress that makes up her work uniform. 

Rey can feel his eyes on her as she walks away and makes an effort to walk in an appealing way. Although admittedly even she isn’t sure what that means, mostly she just tries not to trip over her own feet.

She doesn’t bother writing down Clyde’s order, calling it out to Poe instead, as she grabs the coffee pot off of the hotplate. 

“You know,” Rey says conversationally after she plucks a sugar bowl off of an unoccupied table and sets it down in front of Clyde. “ _Some_ people drink coffee in a way that actually allows them to _taste_ their coffee.”

“Is that right?” Clyde raises both eyebrows at her before he dumps two heaping tablespoons of sugar into his empty ceramic mug. 

“It is in fact, yeah.” Rey says as she starts pouring.

“It’s okay,” something in Clyde’s voice makes Rey look up from her task. “I like sweet things.” He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and Rey’s grip slackens on the handle of the coffee pot.

“Oh fuck, shit, fuck!” She tries to catch the pot as it slides out of her grasp and onto the table. It lands upright, but that doesn’t stop the coffee from sloshing over the edges. “I’m _so_ sorry!” 

Rey scrambles to pull a dish towel out of a pocket of her apron and wipes the liquid hastily away from the edge of the table. A valiant but futile attempt to keep the coffee from Clyde’s lap; unfortunately liquid travels faster than Rey. She doesn’t think as she leans down to wipe the coffee that’s quickly sinking into the fabric of his jeans from his lap until a large hand wraps itself around her wrist, restricting her range of motion. 

“I can take it from here.” Clyde breathes and Rey swears she sees a muscle in his jaw jump. 

Bent over as she is she's the closest to his face that she’s ever been. In fact, she's the closest to him that she’s ever been full stop. He smells like old cologne, laundry detergent, and sweat, and Rey has to remind herself how and why she’s this close to him in the first place. 

_Coffee. Tongue. Spill. Mess._

Rey trails her eyes slowly down from Clyde’s face to where his hand encircles her wrist. Her wrist that is attached to her hand. Her hand that is very much on top of his crotch. 

“Oh,” Rey jerks her hand away from his lap, leaving the cloth in her wake. Her wrist burns where Clyde’s hand had been. “You can take it from here.” She echoes his words, mortified. “I-I’m gonna, uh, I gotta check on your food.” 

Her cheeks burn hotter than her wrist as she bolts away from Clyde’s table, half empty coffee pot in hand. If she were someone with southern hospitality she would probably finish cleaning his table, she thinks blithely, but she’s not, so she leaves him to deal with it himself. He has her dishcloth after all.

The Cantina isn’t busy, so after she’s done hiding in the kitchen Rey has plenty of time to pretend to read her book while instead stealing thinly veiled glances at Clyde as her cheeks slowly return to their normal temperature. 

He’s not a handsome man. At least Rey doesn’t think so. He’s _pretty_. 

Many would probably argue Rey on the point but it doesn’t matter because she knows that she’s right. His lips look too soft to be handsome and too pink not to be pretty. The rest of the mountains and valleys that form his face are dignified and confident in their boldness. His frame is large, sure, but something about the proud lines of his shoulders are elegant.

Rey basks in the rarity of a man like him as he reads his newspaper, flicking through it casually on the now-dry table. 

She’s startled out of her reverie and prompted into action when Poe rings the bell on the counter to get her attention. Closing her unread book, Rey grabs Clyde’s plate from the metal counter.

“Can I get you any condiments with that, dear?” Rey asks, voice sliding into her best southern accent as she sets the plate down in front of Clyde. Her best southern accent sounds vaguely Australian but after her last performance she’s pretty sure that there’s no embarrassment left in her. 

“I’m quite alright.” Clyde assures her, the corners of his lips twitching.

“And scene.” Rey claps her hands together. “So, how’d I do?”

“You want an honest answer to that one?”

“Honesty _is_ the best policy.”

“I don’t reckon you’d know what southern hospitality is if it hit you in the face.”

Rey crosses her arms. “Well we can’t all be rays of sunshine like you now can we?”

“It’s a gift.” Clyde says seriously, expression blank. 

Rey tries to swallow it down, but a laugh bubbles out of her anyways. Before she can smack a hand over her mouth Clyde joins in with her.

The pair quiet after a moment and Rey doesn’t know what to do. She should probably just leave him to his breakfast but she doesn’t want to go just yet.

“Why’d you move here?” Clyde asks suddenly as Rey begins to pivot away.

“Oh,” she leans against the side of his booth. “Well, grandad Ben’s getting old, you know? And with his heart conditions the doctor's don’t think he’ll be around for much longer.” Rey pauses to clear her throat, “and Maz is thinking about moving back to Florida when he’s gone so I’ll be the sole heir to this empire.” She gestures around The Cantina.

“M’sorry,” Clyde’s face loses the joviality it held only moments ago.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Rey says with a smile. 

She knows there’s been talk about why she’d moved to Boone County, some of it wrong ( _“I heard she couldn’t find a job in all of England, even with her hoity toity university degree.”_ ), and some of it just plain outlandish ( _“Heard she’s knocked up and on the run from her baby daddy. Fella's a member of the British mafia.”_ ). She doesn’t mind what people say mostly, but for some reason she likes that Clyde knows the truth.

“If you ever need anything you know you can always ask me, right?” His hand jerks across the surface of the table towards her before he quickly pulls it back. 

“Ah,” Rey nods wisley, ignoring how much she wishes Clyde would touch her again. “So _that’s_ southern hospitality.”

Clyde barks out a startled laugh.

-

“Rey!” Mellie exclaims as the bell jingles over the door. “Come, take a seat.”

“How are you?” Rey asks as she slides into the chair in front of Mellie

“Oh you know me,” Mellie waves her hand dismissively, acrylic nails flashing against the fluorescent lights. “Now, what are we doin’ with ya today?” 

“Just a trim.”

“Oh boo,” Mellie takes a few strands of Rey’s hair between her fingers. “One day you’re gonna let me do somethin’ fun, highlights, or a perm, or somethin’ real pretty.”

“Maybe,” Rey concedes, “just a trim today though.”

“Well alright then, let's get you washed up. Did you see that constriction site on the way over? The one right next to Gallagher's place well they say…” and just like Mellie’s off on a tangent that wouldn’t be exciting if it weren’t for the way she’s able to weave her words, with careful timing and just the right rhythm. 

It’s what Rey likes best about Mellie, that she’s somehow able to make Rey feel at home with practically no effort at all. Since moving to Boone County Rey’s found herself starved for female company most of the time. Sure, Maz is always around but it’s not the same as having someone her own age to gossip with. 

That’s how Rey finds her hair getting trimmed by Mellie’s skilled fingers when it’s already the shortest she’s worn it in years, hanging just past her shoulders. And if Mellie happens to be Clyde’s sister who would definitely know whether or not he’s in a relationship, well that's just a happy coincidence.

As Mellie goes about trimming and layering Rey tries to broach the subject lightly.

“So,” Rey says, after Mellie’s finished talking about how much of a lady’s man Jimmy was in high school. “Is he going with anyone now?” Not that Rey cares about who Jimmy is or isn’t seeing, she just can't think of a better way to shift the conversation. 

“Mmn,” Mellie shakes her head ‘no’. “Was seein’ some medical lady for a while there but they’re blowin’ pretty hot ‘nd cold. Don’t know if that one’ll ever settle down, proper I mean.”

“Ah,” Rey says, she really has nothing to add. “What about Clyde? He going with anyone?” Rey tries to fly under the radar by phrasing the question how she thinks Mellie would.

“Why?” Mellie asks. Her eyes are as sharp as her nails as she scans Rey’s face in the mirror. Apparently, Rey’s been detected. 

“No reason,” Rey glances away from Mellie’s gaze.

“You interested in by big brother Rey?”

“No.” Rey lies vehemently. “Just curious, is all.”

“Okay then,” Rey’s not sure if Mellie believes her or not. “No. He ain’t. Girls ‘round these parts are usually more interested in Jimmy you know? Star football player ‘nd all.”

“Got it.” Rey has to bite her tongue, _hard_ , to keep from smiling. 

Mellie scrutinizes her face. “You _sure_ you ain’t interested in Clyde? Don’t get it twisted, I think you’re great, but Clyde might be a little mature for you, don’t you reckon? _Experienced_ like. I mean he is coming’ up on thirty one.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Rey says, heart sinking. “Because I’m not interested in him.” She tries to believe her lies as the word ‘experienced’ bounces around the inside of her skull like a ping pong ball.

Mellie may have a point.

-

“Right pocket.” Rey calls before she takes her shot. 

“Damn,” Jimmy shakes his head as she sinks the 8 ball with a satisfying thunk. “Fair is fair.” He sighs as he pulls a ten dollar note from his pocket. 

“Thank you kindly.” Rey does a little bow, plucking the bill from his hand. 

The pair of them then reshelve their cues before making their way back over to the bar where Clyde is pouring out a line of shots. 

It’s one of the rare nights that Rey is at Duck Tape without her grandad or the incentive of The Bachelor to lure her in and she vibrates off of the energy of her win. It wasn’t really a surprise, Jimmy's a poor shot, but it's exhilarating nonetheless. 

Clyde’s focused on pouring the alcohol carefully as not to spill but Rey can tell that he saw her win by the slight curve of his lips. She doesn’t think he’d ever admit it, but she knows that Clyde relishes in Jimmy’s small defeats. Middle child complex Rey supposes, though she wouldn’t know. 

“Let me buy you a victory drink.” Jimmy says, sliding his arm along the bar in front of Rey. 

Rey pulls away slightly, she likes Jimmy, really she does, she doesn’t however like where this is going. “I can buy my own. With your money no less.” She waves the faded green note in front of his face. 

“Nah,” Jimmy doesn’t drop it. “You best not go squanderin’ all your riches in one place, now. Really, this round’s on me.” He winks at her, slinging his other arm over her shoulder. 

“That’s not necessary.” Rey maintains, laughing lightly. She's pretty confident that for all of his obvious advances Jimmy’s harmless. 

“Now Rey, if I can’t buy a pretty young thing like you a drink once-”

“The lady said no Jimmy.” Clyde cuts him off, slamming the bottle of liquor he’d been pouring back onto its shelf with a loud thunk, eyeing Jimmy’s hand on Rey’s shoulder. 

“Relax, Clyde.” Jimmy says waving his brother away but disentangling himself from Rey anyways.

“I am relaxed.” Clyde is decidedly not.

“Don’t look it.” Jimmy mutters. 

Rey’s eyes dart back and forth between the two brothers as she twists the money she’s holding between her fingers. She can almost see the threads of tension pulling taught between the two of them. 

“Can I get another Newcastle, sugar?” Clyde’s eyes seem to soften as they flick over her face. 

“Comin’ right up, sweetheart.” Rey knows that Clyde is just keeping up with their teasing but for some reason that particular endearment breaks her arms out in goosebumps. 

Jimmy shakes his head when Clyde ducks under the bar to get her beer. “Always has been a jealous bastard.” The words are so quiet that Rey almost misses them. 

She watches Clyde curiously as he uncaps the bottle for her and considers Jimmy’s words. 

_Jealous, huh?_

Rey can work with jealous. Jealous means that Clyde cares for her, at least in some capacity. To what extent exactly though Rey isn't so sure.

She thrums her fingers on the polished wood of the bar as she formulates of a plan. It may not an advisable one, but it’s a plan nonetheless. 

“You know,” Rey says patting Jimmy on the hand. “I couldn’t accept a drink from you even if I wanted to.”

“And why’s that?” Jimmy eyes her skeptically. 

“Don’t think my boyfriend would like it much, is all.” Rey feigns nonchalance as the lie slides easily from between her lips. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Clyde still from where he’d been stacking glasses. 

“I didn’t know you was goin’ with anyone.” Jimmy frowns. 

“Mm,” she nods as she takes a pull from her beer. She needs a moment to come up with a bolster for her lie. “He’s a bass player over in Charlotte.” 

Rey doesn’t need to look over at the noise that comes from Clyde’s direction to know that he’s dropped the stack of glasses he was holding. 

If Rey doesn’t have the experience Mellie thinks she needs, well she can surely invent it. She just hopes that Clyde is the kind of man who acts on his jealousy. 

-

Clyde is somewhat surprised when Rey shows up on the Monday night following her pool game with Jimmy to watch The Bachelor. 

“Your man ain’t got cable either?” He makes an honest attempt to sound curious rather than bitter but he’s quite sure that he fails. 

“Nope.” Rey says simply as she settles in with her notes at the bar. “Plus, no one could replace you as my Bachelor buddy.” She smiles directly at him and Clyde feels like he’s being punched in the throat. 

“How are you two gettin’ on anyways?” Clyde's going for casual. He can't decide if he doesn't want to know anything or of he wants to hear every painful detail. 

“Good.” Rey says, “we’re good. He’s kinda quiet, but his body isn't.” She laughs a little at that and though Clyde’s never met the guy before he’s suddenly overcome with the urge to hit him with his car. “But no, really, he’s nice. Says he can’t believe he found me.” 

“That is,” Clyde pauses for a moment, “ _nice_.” He can’t come up with anything more insightful to say so he ducks down to get her her beer and swallows the lump in his throat. 

He tries not to admire her face as it lights up when The Bachelor starts, because she’s not his to admire. Not anywhere close. She’s someone else's. And it’s not him. And that’s okay. Because he wasn’t interested in her anyways. He’s just fond of her. That’s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so sad Alexa play [I'd Lie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAuNQvgGQZI&frags=pl%2Cwn).


	3. Chapter 3

“Can I sit?” 

Clyde gestures to the empty space across from him in the booth as he swallows the mouthful of eggs he’d been chewing.

“You came at the right time.” Rey sighs as she rests her arms on the laminate tabletop. “I’ve been rushed off my feet all morning.”

“Why?”

Rey frowns, “I’m not sure. I think it was the birdwatching group from Bandytown passing through.”

“No, I mean why’re you on your feet anyways?” He clarifies. 

“Well I’m not going to shuffle around on my knees, Clyde.”

“I _mean_ , why’re you doin’ waitress stuff? Shouldn’t you be doin’ more managerial type things? If you’re fixin’ to take this place over isn’t that the stuff you oughta learn?”

“Ah,” Rey steeples her fingers on the table. “Yeah, well no. I have to work my way up through the ranks or something.”

Clyde quirks an eyebrow.

“You know? Like rotate through every position so that when Maz and grandad Ben are gone I’ll know how to how to support everyone in their respective positions.” 

“Ah,” Clyde takes a sip of his coffee. That makes sense, he supposes.

“Also, Rose quit so we’re short a waitress.” Rey adds quickly. 

Clyde chuckles against the rim of his coffee cup, because, _yeah_ , that sounds more like Maz. He stops laughing though when he receives a blunt jab to the shin courtesy of Rey’s sneaker clad foot before she’s swinging both of her feet up to bracket his knees on the red vinyl seat of the booth. 

It’s endlessly embarrassing how the bare skin of her ankles turns the overly sweet coffee in his mouth bitter with the knowledge of what he can’t have. Not that it matters anyways, because Clyde isn’t interested in Rey. It’s probably just some ‘fucked up male attribute’ that Mellie will explain later. Biology, or territory, or instinct, or _something_. 

“So, how’s the boyfriend?” 

Rey shakes her head, “No boyfriend anymore. He decided he wanted to give California a try and we hadn’t been seeing each other long enough to warrant anything other than a goodbye.”

“Oh,” Clyde’s heart soars.

“Yeah,” Rey fiddles with the napkin dispenser before looking up at him. “It’s okay though, I started seeing someone else.” 

Clyde’s heart goes crashing right back down. “What’s he like?” He manages, exhaling through his nose.

“Hmm,” Rey tips her head back against the booth behind her and looks up at the corrugated ceiling panels of The Cantina. “He’s kind of a vagabond.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes and Clyde imagines that she must be picturing his face. “I know it’s bad, I should probably be looking for someone more mature, or settled, or employed, but he’s fun.” 

Clyde wants to scream that he’s sitting right here, and that he has a job, and that he’s settled. Instead, he clenches his cheek firmly between his teeth and holds onto the fact that Mellie will explain it all away later. It doesn’t mean a damn thing. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Yeah…” Rey trails off and her eyes find his again. “He said that his bike’s in the shop though so I let him take my car out and he popped the tire last night. That’s not as fun. He whipped around a corner and hit the curb or something.”

“And now your car’s in the shop too?” He’s trying to keep it light, but he knows that given even half the chance he’d deck this guy without question. What kind of man _borrows_ a car and then wrecks it?

“Something like that,” Rey shrugs. “It’s okay, Earl said that it’ll be done sometime tomorrow.”

“It’s takin’ Earl that long to fix a tire?” Clyde can’t hide his surprise.

“Mmm,” Rey nods. “Yeah, I think he said something about the breaks too, maybe it was a blessing that, uh, Austin blew the tire.”

Clyde frowns, not quite satisfied with her answer.

“I should get back to it.” Rey sighs, standing abruptly.

“Rey?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes flit nervously around the diner. 

“Old Ben pickin’ you up from work?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Rey seems to relax at the question. “No. I’ll be getting my ten thousand steps in today. Health is wealth and all that,” she smiles.

Clyde looks at her seemingly genuine smile incredulously. He knows where Maz and Old Ben’s house is, and if he were a betting man he’d place it at well over ten thousand steps away from The Cantina. She’ll be walking down a long stretch of highway followed by a couple of backroads. 

Clyde’s stomach sours at the thought of her making the trek by herself at all, let alone at whatever time her shift ends. “What time are you off?”

“Eight, why?”

“I’m picking you up.” He’s probably overstepping. This is probably _Austin’s_ job. But given the current state of Austin and Rey’s vehicles, for some reason he doesn’t think that Austin will be offering. 

“You don’t have to do that.” Rey tilts her head at him curiously, ponytail swinging. 

“’M aware.”

“Okay.” Rey’s brow is furrowed but he doesn’t miss the slight upward curve of her lip as she wanders off to make roll-ups with paper napkins behind the front counter.

-

“You came.” Rey says through the window Clyde had just rolled down.

“You left.” Clyde reaches across the cab of his truck to pop the door open for her. She somehow looks smaller than usual standing on the curb of the highway, cornflower blue dress cutting her silhouette into the dark barley field stretched out behind her. 

“You were late.” Rey counters, throwing her bag and then herself up and into his idling truck. “Thought I’d get a head start.” 

The LED lights on his dash read 8:07.

“I’m sorry about that.” And he is. Clyde had thought it would be simple, getting Jimmy to cover for him at Duct Tape. It had proven a more complicated endeavor however because Clyde hadn’t factored in the time that it would take for Jimmy to rib him about picking up ‘his girl’ from work. 

“Please,” Rey rolls her eyes as she buckles up. “You have nothing to apologize for. That you even came at all is endlessly impressing.”

Clyde can’t tell if she’s joking or not. His hand feels sticky against the steering wheel.

“Seriously,” she catches his eye with her own. “Thank you for coming. Totally unnecessary but greatly appreciated.”

“You can count on me.” The words feel heavy and alien on Clyde’s tongue and heavier still as they hang in the air of the cab. He has to pull back onto the highway from the shoulder of the road in to break away from Rey’s penetrative gaze. 

“I know.” Clyde thinks he sees her cheeks flush in the rearview mirror, but more likely it’s just the reflection of the brake lights off of the Buick in front of them.

They settle into a fragile sort of silence after that; not quite comfortable, but not quite uncomfortable either. 

Clyde turns up the radio that had been a low thrum before to fill the space between them and although he doesn’t recognize the song, apparently Rey does. She hums gently along with the music and Clyde strains to listen to her soft sounds over the radio. If he could, he’d turn the radio right off to better listen to her. 

It's one of the rare moments in his life where he feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. It feels safe in the cab of his truck, sacred, like they don’t exist to the rest of the world right now, like it’s just the two of them, the night sky, and the radio. Clyde tries to sink into the feeling, but like all good things the moment is over far faster than it ought to be. As his tires crunch their way up Maz and Old Ben’s driveway he cuts the engine and the spell is broken.

“Thanks again,” Rey says after a beat, “for the ride.” 

“Don’t mention it.” The words stick a little in Clyde’s throat.

“No, I mean it,” she unbuckles her seatbelt and hooks her bag up and onto her shoulder. “Thank you.” Then, faster than Clyde can keep up with, she’s leaning across the truck’s center console to press a kiss against the skin of his cheek and sliding out of the cab without another word. 

Clyde sits there in the dark for a moment, dumbfounded. His heart pounds like a train down the tracks and his cheek smarts like a midsummer sunburn where the whisper of her soft lips had just been. 

Somehow, he manages to start his truck back up and make it safely back to the bar without driving off the road; no small feat in his distracted state. 

By the time he’s pushing Duck Tape’s front door open, the heat from his cheek has spread to encompass his entire face and trail down his neck. He clenches and unclenches his hand as he makes his way behind the bar, so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice the conversation that ceases between Mellie and Jimmy as they turn to stare at him. 

“Is our brother honest to God blushin’, Mel?” 

“That, or he’s just finished the beep test, though I don’t see Coach Serrano anywhere.”

“What the hell are the pair of you on about?” 

“Nothin’, just that your face is as red as a turkey cock’s.” Jimmy shrugs, making his way around the bar to the patron side to sit one stool over from Mellie.

“S’not,” Clyde protests, turning away from his siblings to face the shelves behind the bar. 

“What’d she do? Give you a tuggy on the ride back?”

“You’re such a pig,” Clyde hears a thunk from what he assumes is Mellie smacking Jimmy on the arm. _Good_. “So, did she?”

Instead of replying Clyde ignores his siblings in favour of straightening the not altogether crooked labels of the liquor bottles in front of him. 

“Is that a yes?” Jimmy hedges after the non-response.

Clyde turns back around, eyeing his brother’s grinning face. “No, that was not a yes.”

“Well then, enlighten us because _something_ obviously happened.” Mellie waves a pointed finger in a circle in front of Clyde’s face.

“I picked Rey up from work because her car is in the shop.” Clyde says slowly, “that’s all.” 

“Mmm hmm,” she purses her lips, “the girl obviously must’ve done somethin’ with your head then because you never used to tell us tall ones.”

“I haven’t, I’m not.” Clyde stammers sullenly, glaring at the countertop.

“I may have been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night, Clyde Logan.”

“She-” Clyde cuts himself off. There had been something so tender about the ride they had shared, something personal, something he wants to keep all to himself and never share with another soul on the earth save Rey. But, as his siblings blink expectantly at him from across the bar, he accepts that that’s not something that’s going to happen. “I drove her home and she thanked me and left.”

“Thanked you?” Mellie doesn’t miss a beat.

“Just- she kissed me.” Clyde tugs at the collar of his shirt. “On the cheek.” 

“And?” Jimmy frowns.

“And nothin'.” 

“Well, what’d you do?” Mellie is also frowning.

“Nothin'!”

“Lord forgive me, but I really am going to have to bang your heads together if you and Rey don’t straighten this out soon.” His sister threatens.

“What did I do?” Now Clyde is frowning too. 

“It’s obviously what you haven’t done.” Clyde only stares at Mellie and she heaves an overdramatic sigh. “I love you, but you haven’t even got the sense God gave a goose. Rey is interested in you. Her kissing you on the cheek was her expressin’ that interest, albeit like a coward.” She speaks slowly like she’s talking to a child. “You are supposed to express interest back.”

“No,” Clyde shakes his head, “she has a boyfriend. Or- not a boyfriend- but she’s seein’ someone.”

“Hasn’t mentioned anything to me, so he can’t be that special,” Mellie pauses, “besides, boyfriend or no boyfriend there’s no mistakin’ the way she asks after you. Always to bringin’ you up in conversation.”

“We’re _friends_.”

“But you want more.” She says it like a fact, not a question. “And I reckon that she does too.”

Clyde stays silent. The words aren't even a shock to hear coming out of his sister's mouth and he knows undoubtedly that she's right about him. With how incredibly easy the fact is to accept he thinks that maybe, not even very deep down, he's always known. About Rey though he's sure that Mellie is wrong. Pretty sure. Fairly sure. Almost sure, at the very least. Regardless, there's a part of him that _hopes_ … 

He tries to keep his face blank. 

“Deny it if you want to, but if you don’t make a move soon, you’re bound to regret it.” Mellie leans across the bar to pat her brother on the hand before hopping off of the barstool. “She likes you Clyde, you oughta try it out for yourself one of these days.” With that, she throws back the rest of her drink and makes her way out the door, Jimmy and Clyde both staring after her.

“You know she might have a point.” Jimmy says, “Rey does look at you like this.” He softens his face and batts his eyelashes exaggeratedly. 

“Screw off.” 

Jimmy snickers as he does just that, wandering away from the bar to join a group of guys from his graduating class by the dart board.

Clyde scrubs his face with his hand before setting to work re-stocking the fridges underneath the counter. A somewhat lacking attempt to distract himself from the churning of Mellie’s words as they spin ‘round and ‘round in his head. By the time last call comes around Clyde has taken to walking through the bar to check on each individual chair and stool to see if any of them wobble just to keep his hands, and head, occupied. 

“One for the road?” He asks when he finds himself in front of Earl.

“Nah,” Earl stretches his arms out behind him, “I should be gettin' lost.”

Clyde nods, moving on to the chairs the next table over as Earl shrugs his jacket on and heads for the door. 

“Hey, Earl?” He calls out before he can talk himself out of asking. “Is Rey’s car in your shop?” Something about her story combined with Mellie’s words niggle at him. 

“Sure is.” Clyde almost rolls his eyes at his own stupidity. Really, what answer was he expecting? “The little lady’s master cylinder’s out of whack, car went flyin’ into a curb when she was goin’ ‘round a turn and the tire blew.” 

“When _she_ was goin’ ‘round a turn?” Earl must have his wires crossed.

“Yeah, she was a little shaken. I had to tow her back and everythin’, save the hubcap, you know?” 

“Right," Clyde swallows hard, an uneasy feeling settling heavily in the pit of his stomach. "Save the hubcap."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *[Bad Liar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeBfu5syH0s) plays in the distance*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! This is just a note if **alcohol abuse** is a trigger for you. While Rey doesn’t have an alcohol abuse _problem_ in this fic, hence why I don’t have it tagged, she does _abuse_ alcohol in this chapter. In my opinion it comes off more as her being a messy 20 year old than anything else, however if that’s going to trigger you then it’s definitely not worth reading. Okay, I’m done, be safe, make good choices.

“Two words, four syllables.” Rey says as she slides onto her usual barstool and drums her hands on the top of the bar, practically vibrating with energy. “ _Finale night_ ,” she supplies when Clyde doesn’t even bother with his own guess.

“Right,” he nods, popping the cap off of her beer. 

“And _then_ it’s Bachelorette season.” She grins. 

“Right,” Clyde repeats, sliding her beer across the bar top. 

Thrown by his demeanor, Rey pauses before reaching out for the bottle. Grabbing it after a beat, her little finger accidentally brushes up against the calloused skin of Clyde’s thumb and he jerks immediately away from the contact. 

The smile on Rey’s face falters at the sudden movement. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he doesn’t look at her, “I’m just- I’ll be clearin’ tables if you need anythin’.” And with that Clyde is turning his back to her and walking out from behind the bar to attend to the practically spotless seating area. 

Rey twists her neck to watch him for a few moments as he moves from table to table through the empty bar, but he doesn’t even spare her a second glance. No wry smile, or head tilt of acknowledgement, not even a look played off under the guise of doing something else, nothing. 

With pursed lips she turns back towards the TV and tries to focus on the screen as she takes a deep pull from her bottle, but the show suddenly seems dull without Clyde’s well-intentioned but usually off target comments. Still, she does her best. 

Unfortunately for Rey, her best just happens to be the worst. She fidgets uncomfortably in her seat, kicking her heel repeatedly into the rung at the bottom of the stool as her eyes flit from the screen to the countertop and back again, trying desperately to stay engaged. Since it’s the finale there aren’t even any notes to take to keep her occupied. 

Stewing in her confusion, she plays back every recent interaction she’s had with Clyde. He hasn’t been to The Cantina in a while, and the last time she saw him was a run in at Mellie’s work that had started and ended with him practically running out of the salon and back to his truck because he had been late for ‘a thing’. Rey wracks her brains until the right memory finally strikes her across the face and leaves her skin smarting with the obviousness of it. 

The last time that Clyde had been his relatively normal self had been the night he'd driven her home from work. It had incidentally also been the night where she’d decided to try and get the ball rolling a little by kissing him on the cheek. Based on his behaviour though she'd probably only succeeded in making him feel horribly uncomfortable with the display of physical affection. He obviously wasn’t interested in her in the _slightest_ and she’d gone and blown up their friendship by crossing that physical boundary. His uneasy demeanour had to be a product of the fact that he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore. 

Rey berates herself internally for being an idiot as she drinks down her beer. Finishing the bottle in five deep gulps, she fidgets more than she had been before now that she has nothing to do with her hands. She could just leave, that would probably best decision to make. But Rey has never been known for making the best decisions. So, instead of leaving, she reaches across the bar and grabs a clear Stolichnaya bottle with a spirit pourer on it. Clyde still isn’t paying her any mind, so she doesn’t even have to try to be covert as she fills her empty beer bottle with the liquid. 

She manages to replace the vodka bottle without incident before taking a drink, and it tastes _rank_ ; although that’s to be expected. With nothing to chase it with though the burning waxy aftertaste lingers on her tongue. At first Rey cringes, but eventually she accepts the taste as her punishment for single-handedly destroying the best friendship she had going for herself and takes another gulp. 

It’s probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, in fact it’s _definitely_ not, but it ends up working out alright for her. By the time the episode of The Bachelor is over she’s more than sufficiently buzzed enough to be sitting comfortably on her stool staring glassily up at the happy couple on the TV screen.

“You were right.” 

“Huh?” Rey jumps just a little, she hadn’t heard Clyde come up beside her. 

“You were right.” He repeats nodding at the screen, “Cassie.”

“Oh, yeah, yep.” She turns away from the TV to look at Clyde, only wobbling a little as she twists on her stool. “Don’t go giving away all of my trade secrets now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Well, thanks for the season,” she tries not to slur, “it was a pleasure doing business with you. Maybe one day we’ll find people who will jump fences for us too.”

Clyde inclines his head to the side, “You already have someone who would do that for you though.”

Rey looks at him in confusion. She’s about to tell him that, _no, he has it wrong_ , but then he speaks again.

“Austin?” 

And, _oh_ , yeah, _Austin_ , that _is_ right. He _does_ think that she’s dating Austin. She supposes that she can get rid of the fake pseudo boyfriend now that she knows how Clyde really feels about her, so that’s something of a relief if nothing else. If Clyde hadn’t even liked it when she’d kissed him on the cheek then there’s no chance he’ll be interested in her kissing him elsewhere.

“Mmm, yeah, Austin…” she should probably just stop lying now, but maybe she can stop lying some other time when she has her wits about her. “Good man. Says he can’t believe he found me.” 

“No.” 

“What?”

“ _No_.”

“Yes?” Who is he to tell her what or what not an imaginary person she’s dating has said to her? 

“No. No, because that’s what your last boyfriend said to you. Not this one. I remember.” 

Unquestionably caught in her own lies dread washes her body like a bucket of ice water. It should help her some that she knows there'll be no real consequences to her lying, it's not like Clyde cares for her so there's no reason for him to be angry. But it doesn't help her any, in fact it only makes her feel about ten times worse.

“Listen Rey,” Clyde shakes his head, taking a step back from her. “I thought this thing that we had goin’, I thought it was goin’ good. But if I make you uncomfortable, you’d tell me, right?”

“Yes,” Rey says slowly. Clyde’s words aren't making sense and she doesn’t think it’s just because she’s sloshed; although that fact certainly doesn't help.

“Good. Because I’d understand it, you know? I’m a lot older than you, and I’m a man, and I can stop comin’ to your work. I just thought that we were friends and that it was alright, but if it bothers you then I’ll stop.”

“Okay?” Rey rubs the back of her neck in an attempt to alleviate the whiplash this conversation is giving her. “Clyde, what are you _on_ about?”

“I know you don’t got no boyfriend, you don’t have to lie to me." He looks more than uncomfortable as he speaks. "If you don’t want me botherin’ you, you don’t gotta pretend to be seein’ someone else. I’d respect it on your own word, I mean.”

“I don't understand, that’s not-" she shakes her head, blinking hard. Thinking straight when she's this drunk is hard enough on its own, but thinking straight when she's this drunk and this confused is next to impossible. "That’s not it at all.” Rey slides off of her stool and her vision blurs out for just a second. “Oh fuck.” She stumbles forwards and the movement jostles the contents of her stomach. It feels like her diaphragm is suddenly at the back of her throat. “I just, I’m going to-” she cuts herself off by slapping a hand over her mouth and stepping around Clyde in favour of running for the door. 

Scarcely is she out of the bar is she hanging over the railing out front breathing deeply through her nose and willing herself not to vomit. By the warmth radiating off of his body behind her Rey knows that Clyde has followed her outside. She blinks a couple of tears out of her eyes at the force of her gagging and coughing and tries to keep it all together.

She straightens eventually, pressing one hand to her chest and using the other to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Clyde,” she swallows hard, half to keep the vodka down and half because she doesn’t know what to say. “That’s _not_ it.”

“Well what _is_ it then?” He holds up the half-empty Stolichnaya bottle clenched between the metal fingers of his prosthetic, mouth flattened into a hard line. “Because lyin’ and theivn’ ain’t two things that I'm used to toleratin'.”

“I,” Rey starts, then stops. There isn’t any good way to say what she knows she has to. Because as much as she hates herself for it now, and as much as it'll only cement the death of their friendship for good, Clyde deserves the truth. The whole truth. Rey can see that now. The urge to throw up overwhelms her again but this time it’s not because of the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. “I’m sorry. I just, I like you Clyde, in a more than I should sort of way. And I thought that maybe you might like me that way too, but Mellie said that you probably wouldn’t be interested in someone as inexperienced as me. So, I thought if I just,” she pauses to swallow, “I thought if I just made some people up that maybe that would help, and in the process make you jealous or something. Make me seem more wanted, attractive, I don’t know. And saying it out loud it just sounds stupid, and awful, and contrived, and I know that you're not even interested in me like that, or at all, and I'm sorry. It was a mistake, it was all a mistake.” The words come out in a tangled, slightly-nonsensical, rush, and Rey can feel her heartbeat pounding in the veins at her temples. “God, and then if my lies weren't enough to ruin our friendship on their own, I had to go and kiss you the other night, which was another mistake. And the liquor was just the last in an evidently long line. You don’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.” 

Rey’s face burns as Clyde blinks at her until it all becomes too much and she moves to push past him for the second time. Only this time he doesn’t let her get away with it. Clyde’s free hand catches her around the upper arm and spins her back around to face him. 

She tries to jerk out of his grasp but freezes when he leans down and whispers: “What it wasn't a mistake?” in her ear before kissing her softly on the cheek.

“I-what?” Rey's head spins anew.

“What if none of it was a mistake?” Clyde asks again before straightening. “By the way, Mellie ain’t worth listenin’ to. I reckon that I’d be interested in you if you had three eyes and had never been with anyone at all.” 

The words swim around Rey’s head for a moment before they sink and settle. When they finally do, she reaches towards him tentatively with half-stunned movements but then pulls her hand back at the last second, unsure if she got the meaning of them exactly right. He nods down at her once, just a slight movement that’s only really detectable to Rey because of the way his shadow shifts against her face, and then she’s reaching up again. She rests her hand gently against the side of his neck and he leans into the touch with the barest of movements. Emboldened, Rey holds her breath as she stretches up onto her toes to kiss Clyde. On the lips this time. It’s fast, just the soft press of skin on skin, and then she’s pulling away. Her eyes flit slowly from Clyde’s plush mouth to the proud line of his nose before she meets his gaze. And then she’s stretching up to kiss him again, more deeply this time. 

On a very real level Rey knows that her mouth tastes disgustingly like the afterburn of vodka, but Clyde doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he cares so little that he wraps both of his arms around her lower back and pulls her body into his for better access. The spirit bottle slips from his grasp as he slides his hands up her back but neither one of them so much as flinch as it smashes against the ground, too enraptured in each other to pay it any kind of notice. 

Rey stumbles back a little when they finally separate. She’s unstable on her feet due to the lack of oxygen paired with the alcohol that’s still flooding her veins. Clyde is swift to reach out and steady her with both hands as her shoes crunch back on the broken glass, but then she holds up a finger and pivots away from him. 

Jackknifed over the railing in front of the bar again, she coughs twice before most of the contents of her stomach paint the parking lot. The muscles in her core ache as she continues to cough, and more tears streak her face as stomach acid and alcohol burn her mouth and nose. Clyde soothes his hand between her shoulder blades until she’s standing straight again.

“Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?” He says dryly. 

“Hilarious.” Rey wipes at her mouth with a sleeve. Her face may as well be permanently tattooed red with the number of times it's been flooded with embarrassment tonight.

“I think it’s home time for you.” 

Rey nods, feeling around in her pockets for her car keys and Clyde scoffs when she eventually pulls them out.

“Ain’t no way you’ll be drivin’ yourself home in this state.”

“But my car…” she glances at her vehicle over her shoulder.

“Your car can stay here for the night, come on now, I’ll take you home and bring you back in the morning to pick it up.” 

“I-okay.” She relents. There isn’t much ground for her to protest on anyway seeing as she can hardly see straight standing still; never mind driving sixty. 

“Come on,” he offers her an arm and helps her to his truck. “I gotta lock up but I won’t be a minute.”

Rey nods and then the truck door is slamming, and her head is falling sideways to rest against the cool window. In the time it takes Clyde to close the bar she must fall asleep because the next thing she knows he’s coaxing her awake to move her arm aside and click her seatbelt into place. 

A million things she wants to say to Clyde run through her head at once, but they’re all forgotten as soon as his truck hits the first bend in the road. 

“Shit,” she starts coughing again. 

“It’s just ten minutes to Old Ben’s, try to hang on.”

“Okay, okay,” Rey takes deep breaths as she rolls the window down to get some fresh air. She can tell that Cylde is trying to drive carefully around corners, but her stomach can’t, flipping and swooping all the same. “Clyde I can’t-” she swallows hard as the truck comes to a halt at a stop sign. Through half-lidded eyes she watches as Clyde taps his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Change of plan then.” He announces before accelerating the truck. “Just hang in there for two minutes.” 

_Two minutes, just two minutes_ , is the last thought that Rey can remember having before she screws her eyes sightly shut and the world fades to black around her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes crispies, so, this really was supposed to be the last chapter but that didn't work out since apparently I don't even know the meaning of the word concise. However, since I already feel awful for increasing the chapter count from three to four, the last chapter should be up momentarily. Sorry and also thank you for sticking with me/this story!
> 
> (Also here's [the link to Colton's fence jump](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaPq4FM5gD8) because even if you don't watch or care about The Bachelor in the _slightest_ it's gold, I actually think it might even be better without context).


	5. Chapter 5

When Rey next blinks herself awake it’s in the diffused blue-grey light of early morning. Her eyes sting a little as she works to rub a kink out of her neck and take in her surroundings. 

She’s not at home, that much is obvious, and by the smell of the sheets she knows instinctively that she’s in Clyde’s bed. Rey doesn’t bother panicking at the realization thought because the only thing missing from her person are her shoes. And that’s besides the fact that the man in question is nowhere to be seen anyways. 

Settling herself back against the pillows she processes her way through last night’s events and to keep herself from tearing her hair out she has to ball her hands into fists. A small feeling of satisfaction sits high in her chest due to Clyde’s revelation about her, but mostly she feels like the worst person in the entire world. Even though she knows very clearly now that Clyde’s into her she’s quite confident that nothing about her character deserves him in the slightest. How she ever decided that lying was the right way to go about getting Clyde's attention is beyond her. She feels like screaming, and kicking herself in the face, and inventing a time machine. 

Instead, she rolls out of bed tries to tread as silently as she can through the dark trailer because she can hear Clyde snoring lightly from what must be the living room. Briefly, she debates just leaving but the realization that she doesn't know exactly where Clyde lives in relation to Duck Tape strikes her as something of a problem. 

Uncomfortable at the prospect of waking Clyde, and thus having to face him sober and in the light of day, she winds up in the bathroom. She pees, and then uses his toothbrush to remove last night’s less than desirable taste from her mouth. They’ve already swapped spit, so Rey doesn’t factor in any harm. Rinsing it thoroughly before setting it back in the cup she’d taken it from she sighs as she leans against the sink. 

Pressing the heels of her hands into the porcelain she tips herself forwards until she’s practically nose to nose with herself in the mirror. She examines her face with an unsympathetic eye and berates herself for her abhorrent behaviour as she stares. She makes a lame attempt at righting her day old makeup and slightly haphazard hair before quickly giving up and pushing herself back from the mirror, wandering out of the bathroom. Once again she tiptoes through the trailer, this time in search of the kitchen. She finds it too, the trailer not being particularly large, but before she does she has to pass through the living room. 

Rey can’t help but pause when she sees Clyde asleep on the couch. Something about him, even in sleep, captivates her. He lays curled against the plaid fabric, but even with his legs folded up as they are, his arm and feet still hang off the couch. If she had thought that the kink in her neck had been bad when she’d woken up in Clyde’s bed this morning, she dreads to think about the kinks that are bound to be all over Clyde’s body from his sleeping situation. 

The blanket he must have pulled over himself last night lays in a puddle on the floor next to the couch and Rey wrestles with herself for a moment before she’s walking over to pick it up and covering his prone form with the fabric. Closer than she was before she can make out the features of his face in the low light. His plush lips are parted just a little and his eyelashes fan out against the skin of his sleep softened cheeks and Rey half-wishes that she could watch the unbothered rising and falling of his chest like this forever. It’s a disturbing thought and exactly the reason why she forces herself away from him and into the kitchen. 

Opening and closing the cabinets as quietly as she can, she eventually finds a glass that she fills with water before making her way over to the kitchen table. Her knee bangs the tabletop as she sits, and Clyde’s snoring stops abruptly. The knot buried in Rey’s stomach constricts painfully and she’s seized with the overwhelming feeling that she’s the worst person in the entire world again. 

“Mornin’,” Clyde greets when he shuffles into the room, clearing his throat as he leans against the doorframe. Sleep ruffled in a t-shirt and low-slung sweatpants he looks far more appealing than anyone should be allowed to this early in the day. 

“Hi,”

“You sleep okay?”

“I should probably be the one asking you that, no?”

Clyde shrugs, making his way through the kitchen to pour himself his own glass of water before sitting down at the table across from her.

“You could’ve given me the couch you know.”

“Southern hospitality,” is all Clyde says, tapping his temple with his forefinger. His prosthetic is nowhere in sight.

“Hmm,” Rey hums taking a sip of her water. 

“How’s the hangover?” 

“Okay,” she says as the ball of energy in her stomach seizes again. 

“You’ve got to stop lyin’ to me.”

“No, really, I’m…” she pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes so that she doesn’t have to look at Clyde, “I feel terrible,” she admits, “but I’ve never been a hangover gal, I just, I feel awful for what I’ve done to you.” 

“Ain’t nothin’.”

“ _Clyde_.”

“Rey.” 

Rey shakes her head.

“Okay then, tell me why you did it.” 

“I did tell you,” she frowns, “last night.”

He levels her with an unimpressed look and Rey swallows.

“I don’t know,” she picks at the skin around her thumbnail, “I guess I just liked you a lot, and I’ve never had much luck with these things in the past. So, I got scared and started playing stupid games.” 

Clyde slides his hand across the table and Rey takes hold of it, interlacing her fingers with his. She keeps her gaze trained on their hands instead of looking him in the eyes. 

“For what it’s worth, I understand. The bein’ scared, and the _luck_.” He lets out a sort of half-laugh half-sigh, “I also understand that bein’ scared means that there’s somethin’ worth being scared of, or scared of losin’.” Pulling her hand up, still wrapped in his own, he bows his head to kiss the back of it, and his hot breath on the delicate skin makes her stomach drop in the best way. “Plus, someone once proposed an inspirin’ little toast to me,” he raises his water glass, “to makin’ our own luck.” 

“To making our own luck,” Rey can’t help but smile, clinking her glass with his, as the memory of the first night she’d ever laid eyes on him warms her from the inside out. 

Rey traces her thumb along the side of his as she takes a sip of water and she can feel his dark eyes track the movement of the liquid as it passes from her lips down to her throat when she swallows; the sudden but profound understanding that she has his full attention, and that maybe she always has, is enthralling.

She pulls her hand from his as she sets her glass back down and he looks confused for half a second before she’s making her way around the table to stand in front of him. After that he seems to understand though because he separates his knees, clearing a space between his legs for her to step into. Bringing both hands up to bracket the sides of his face, she slips her fingers into his hair and tries to commit his awe filled expression to memory before she leans down to kiss him. If inventing a time machine isn't plausible, then the least she can do is try to make reparations now.

Clyde opens his mouth to her immediately, wrapping his arm around the back of her thighs to pull her closer as he explores her mouth with his tongue. They stay like that until Rey’s neck aches from the angle and her slightly bent knees start to quiver. Undeterred, she shuffles even closer and folds her legs under herself to straddle both of Clyde’s thighs. His hand comes up to cup the back of her neck as they continue to kiss and when she settles comfortably into his lap she can feel the length of his half-hard cock pressed up against her stomach. She grinds into it, underwear dampening, as Clyde trials his hand from her neck down to the side of her ribcage. His thumb traces the edge of her breast cautiously and Rey feels her nipples stiffen against the thin fabric of her bra, but he doesn’t go any further than that, only leaves his hand at her side, burning a hole through her t-shirt. 

Rey, unsatisfied, unwinds a hand from his hair to encourage him. Reaching down she rucks up her shirt and then, covering the back of his hand with her own she slides it over until his palm is on top of the cup of her bra. He takes it from there without any extra help, immediately pulling the cup aside to palm at the soft flesh. Rey rolls her hips with a newfound intensity at the sensation and squirms when he bites lightly down on her lower lip.

With heaving chests and red mouths they pull apart eventually and Rey moves her lips over to the shell of Clyde’s ear. “Clyde?” She murmurs, shifting her hips intentionally, “This time when you take me to bed, you should stay with me.”

She feels Clyde’s breathing stop for just a second before he's spurred into action. He wedges his arm underneath her ass and stands, hoisting her up with him. Rey yelps at the sudden movement, wrapping her arms securely around his neck and squeezing her legs around his waist. More heat pools between her thighs against the muscles of his stomach as he moves them through the trailer. 

When he tosses her onto the bed Rey finishes pulling off her already half-off her shirt and unhooks her bra before kicking jeans to the floor. Clyde stands at the foot of the bed and watches on with parted lips. His eyes trace her exposed skin slowly and Rey cocks her head at the curious expression on his face.

“Okay?”

“Fine, yeah.”

“Now who’s lying?”

Clyde shoots her a half-smile before shaking his head. “I’ve thought about this. Never thought it would happen is all.” He swallows visibly, “You next to naked in my bed, I mean.”

“Well then,” she draws herself up onto her knees and shuffles to the end of the bed to kiss Clyde softly, heart nearly bursting in her chest with the complete and utter tenderness she feels for the man. There's no way that she can sensibly convey all that she feels for him through her kiss, but she'll be damned if she doesn't try. She then tugs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it, and him, closer to the bed. When she eventually, somewhat reluctantly, pulls back from him it's to lay herself out flat on top of the blanket covered mattress so that Clyde can crawl up her body and hover over her. “You had better make the most of it.”

His hand comes up to brush gently against the side of her face and then he’s leaning down to kiss her again. Settling his body weight more fully on top of her he fits one leg between her thighs so that she can feel his now fully-fledged erection against her hip. Rey trails her arms down his back and pulls his shirt up as she tries to grind into his leg. 

She plans on making the most of it too. 

They separate briefly so that Rey can pull Clyde’s shirt up and over his head and then his tongue is immediately back inside of her mouth. The planes of his bare chest rub at her nipples and Rey thinks that if she really tried, she could cum from the feeling of that alone. Clyde, ever the gentleman though, doesn’t make her try. Instead, propped up on his stump, he splays his hand over the taut muscles of her stomach, just above the line of her panties, before breaking away from their kiss.

“Is this…?”

“Okay,” Rey nods quickly, “more than okay.”

And with that confirmation Clyde is sliding his hand from her stomach down into her underwear. His thick middle finger traces the edges of her pussy lips lightly and Rey tries not to squirm at how badly she wants him inside of her. He teases at the crease of her thigh and the skin around her cunt a little more before finally dragging two fingers down her centre, it’s still not what she wants, but at least it's closer.

“Wet,” he comments before pausing. He slides his fingers up and down her centre again and then swipes his thumb gently over her clit. “Who are you wet for?”

He asks it in a serious enough tone that Rey opens her mouth to answer the frankly ridiculous question, but then Clyde is circling her clit more firmly with his thumb and tendrils of fire are spark up the nerves in her legs and her brain short circuits so that all that comes out is a choked off groan.

“An ex? _Austin_?” Clyde asks casually as he continues to thumb at her clit. “Maybe someone new… I saw you talkin' to Fish Bang at The Cantina the other week, got your eye on him now?

“N-no, no.” She may as well be wasted again at the rate her brain is processing his words. “You, it’s for you. All of it.”

“Mm,” Clyde finally slides a finger into Rey’s aching cunt. 

She shutters as he works her open, barely used to the slight stretch before he slides a second finger in alongside the first. He then curls his fingers forwards to find her front wall and the muscles in her stomach jump when he rubs the pads of his fingers over the fleshy skin there. The feeling combined with the pressure he's still applying to her clit is enough have her toes curling against the blanket and bright pinpricks of light dancing on the backs of her closed eyelids. It’s almost enough to send her over the edge. _Almost_. 

Reaching down, she grabs his wrist to still his movements. 

She moves her other hand to slide inside the front of Clyde’s sweatpants and cup the hard length of him gently. “It’s all for you.”

Clyde tenses as Rey encircles his cock with her fingers and slides her hand gently along the hot skin. Then, he’s pushing himself out of her grasp and shucking off his pants as Rey quickly follows suit and kicks off her panties.

She slides a hand down her body to play with her throbbing clit as Clyde hastens to grab a condom from his bedside table. She finds his ability to roll it on one handed hotter than is probably strictly warranted and trails her fingers through the new wetness that pools at her entrance as she watches him. 

“If it’s all for me,” Clyde crawls back onto the bed, “then you ought not touch it.” He pulls her hand away from her dripping cunt and pins it up on the pillow next to her head. “Isn’t that right?”

Rey nods, licking her bottom lip in anticipation as she spreads her legs wider for him. “Please.”

“I got you,” Clyde assures, running the head of his cock through her folds, “I got you.” He repeats as he presses into her, slowly stretching her out around him until he bottoms out inside of her.

“You do-” Rey chokes out, breathing through her nose as she gets used to how incredibly full she feels with him inside of her. “Have me.” She finishes, clenching down around him.

Clyde’s expression softens at her words and he interlaces her fingers with his, thrusting once experimentally. Rey nods and he does it again, and again, until he builds up to something of a rhythm. All of the nerves in her back feel stretched and oversensitive as his pelvic bone rubs against her clit with each thrust and the hand that’s not holding his makes a fist in the blankets. An echo of the way she'd fisted the blanket earlier this morning, but for much better reasons this time. 

“Tell me what you want,” Clyde pants as he continues with his now rapid thrusting, sac making an obscene noise as it smacks against her ass with every movement.

Mouth dry and skin on fire Rey only groans in response as his chest drags across her aching nipples.

“Not tellin’ me is called lyin’,” _smack_ , “by,” _smack_ , “omission,” _smack_.

“Touch me,” she exhales, “ _please_.”

Clyde have make her elaborate on the request, he just unwinds his hand from hers and slides it between their bodies to find her clit. He circles the nub with two fingers and Rey’s toes are back to curling. Her legs shake against the bed as Clyde’s cock finds her at just the right angle and when he presses down on her clit at the same time Rey cums without warning, vision whiting out with the force of her orgasm.

Her whole body tremors with the aftershocks of it and her arms feel like lead as her hand stays fisted in the blankets. It takes all the energy that she has left to lift her leg and wrap it around Clyde’s hip. Encouraging him to use her to finish, she flexes her foot against the back of his thigh, and he continues thrusting until she feels his muscles tense and seize moments later. His arm and stump give out momentarily and he lays heavily on top of her as he recovers; his breath hot against her neck. 

After a moment Clyde pushes himself off of Rey, rolling over to lay next to her on the bed. Their chests rise and fall rapidly as they catch their breaths and Clyde pulls off the condom, tying it in a knot before tossing it in the general direction of the garbage can in the corner of his room. Rey then shifts onto her side, propping her head up on a shaky elbow.

“I still owe you, you know.” 

Clyde turns his head lazily to look at her.

“For the vodka,” she clarifies. “I still owe you for it.”

“Is that right?” 

“Uh huh,” the muscles in her back jump and twitch sporadically as she craws on top of him before she lays down, pressing her breasts once again to his chest. Spent, and thoroughly satisfied, she's not nearly ready for round two yet, and with his quickly softening cock she's sure that Clyde isn't either. But there's some small, needy, part of her that desperately needs to be as close to him as it can get.

“You’re a smart girl,” he considers, settling his hand on her upper back before sliding it intentionally down to cup her ass. “I reckon you’ll find a way to make it up to me somehow.”

"I reckon so too." She arches her back, pushing her ass more firmly into his hand. 

Clyde squeezes the skin playfully before bringing his hand up to Rey's face to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear. He looks at her earnestly then, eyes filled with what Rey thinks is the same tenderness she feels for him and murmurs: "I can't believe I found you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone feel like listening to the acoustic version of Pierre? No? Here’s the [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yR5RK261tU) anyways. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and thank you especially to those of you who loved this story for me when I couldn't. The reason that it took me so long to finish this fic was because I really fell out of love with it about halfway through writing it—actually I decided that I hated the entire fic, wanted to burn it to the ground, and came incredibly close to deleting it ~3 times, but that's besides the point. Reading your comments and hearing what you had to say truly made me see it in a different light and yeah, just, thank you. I appreciate you. K bye.
> 
> Also I forgot to add it because I am dumb (so this is an edit) but Desiree (@sofondabooks on [Tumblr](http://sofondabooks.tumblr.com) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sofondabooks)) made this [moodboard](https://twitter.com/sofondabooks/status/1158557289525084161/photo/1) that I adore and can't thank her enough for so check it out please and thank you. Also, also while I am here since finishing this fic I've made a Twitter so hit me up maybe [@epne_](https://twitter.com/epne_).


End file.
